Deena Kastor had a wonderful quote.
Whenever I watch an athlete have a big jump in performance, I think back to my most transformative years in the sport. It’s amazing how that new level of performance can look shocking, almost magical to the outside. Even more interestingly, if you observe the athlete in the year or two leading to that moment, you sometimes see what looks like no steps at all, or even steps backward.
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My Early Pro Struggles
In 2009, my second year out of college, I was injured much of the year. I had run a slew of PRs during a very fun first summer on the European “minor league” track circuit after I graduated in 2007, as well as a few PRs in early 2008 despite having a rough late summer season. But in 2009, instead of avenging my terrible Olympic Trials showing as I had planned, I fought a soleus and Achilles problem that continued on and off for months. On paper, about 80 percent of the year looked like a total lack of progress. Not only wasn’t I racing, I wasn’t running.
My husband and I did a lot of bouncing around that year, while he was making a go at the Canadian Olympic team in the 1500 meters. I accompanied Kurt on his training camps, but mostly cross-trained or saw physical therapists, chiropractors, and podiatrists trying to figure out my leg injury. We spent time in Victoria, Toronto, and Albuquerque. I swam, biked, rehabbed, lifted, and jogged, but didn’t cover much actual ground.
I pieced together a lot of small lessons. My deep core muscles were pretty weak, so I was taught the difference between strengthening transverse abs versus doing crunches to get “glamour abs.” I had a leg-length difference and some issues with an old foot injury, so I tested out numerous orthotics. I did a good amount of treatments like electric stim and prolotherapy on my Achilles and calf, but they had undramatic results.
After that frustrating winter of 2009, I threw in the towel on a comeback that spring and took a full month off, with the intention of building back slowly. I removed all timelines and focused on pain-free running first. The lessons of that long winter sunk in, as I realized there was a process I was in the middle of that I had to stop fighting or trying to cut short.
I wound up making it to the national track championships that summer, and although I was pretty out of shape, I still finished higher there then I did at the Olympic Trials the year before. I felt like my body was moving smoother and that I was building fitness every week. By the end of the fall, I had won three national road titles. I carried the momentum into the next winter, when I went south to Arizona instead of Canada to train (though I still made sure to surround myself with plenty of lovely Canadian runners!).
A Breakthrough!
Knowing the body work from the previous year was so important, I worked with chiropractor John Ball that year for the first time, and kept at least two potential injuries at bay. I was setting up a year where I’d PR in the 5K numerous times, including eventually breaking the American record in the distance.
“Where did that come from!?,” everyone wondered.
It came from 2009.
I like this story because when you’re in those transformative periods, you usually don’t know it. There’s a lot of doubt and frustration. For me, 2009 was like a sport-performance puberty. Like a physical growth spurt, it can feel chaotic and uncoordinated, like a lot of energy is being used but you’re moving every direction except forward. Instead, I was recalibrating, redirecting, and problem-solving, and all the while my racing trajectory was shifting from kinetic to potential form. To the outside, it probably looked like major floundering. At times, it felt like it could go either way, like I was on the edge of a breakthrough or a total breakdown.
I see now how looking at it from more of a zoomed-out view could have helped me to understand it as a set-up for progress. Although it feels like a failure or lost opportunity in that immediate time frame, and you don’t know what’s going to happen, it could be understood more like a spring loading. The struggle is possibly part of an unknown future success where you just aren’t finished with the story line yet. You could be successful because of some of your challenging moments, not in spite of them. That idea makes me want to keep going.
Everyone Struggles
This past year, I conducted more than 70 athlete interviews as part of a book I’m writing with my friend and former competitor Sara Slattery. It was interesting to realize the common threads running through so many amazing athletes’ stories. One of the insights I heard often was how, in looking back on their career, they noticed a pattern of challenges or setbacks preceding the buildup to great performances or breakthroughs. It’s a cliche that “a setback is a setup for a comeback,” but it’s powerful to hear how that’s actually happened in real ways to real people.
If you see the potential for that, it can help you have a more hopeful perspective when you aren’t getting that sweet positive feedback or objective success that is most people’s preferred quick-burning fuel source (like carbs for your ego). If we follow the gold medal moment back far enough, it’s encouraging to see what a real breakthrough is made of. It’s usually more human and accessible than sports movies may make it sound, and it’s usually too monotonous or not glamorous enough to weave into a short story.
Linden’s October: 496 Miles, 196 the Final Week about how the self-reflection and refocusing that happens after a setback or a transformative time can launch us to new heights. She says, “If we choose not to be defined by the challenge and instead define ourselves in spite of it, we are really exercising the greatest gift of resiliency.” I wanted to tattoo that on my arm after I heard it!
Shalane Flanagan similarly noted that during a few pretty serious injuries in her career, she rehabbed, cross-trained, rested, and came back to the sport to achieve some of her most amazing accomplishments, like her indoor American records, Olympic medal, and New York City Marathon victory.
We also talked to athletes like Julie Culley, Kim Conley, and Des Linden, none of whom were national-class athletes right away or frequent All-Americans in college. They nonetheless committed to training and that lifestyle as though they were already that good. It paid off in breakthroughs and Olympic berths that surprised a lot of people.
They weren’t robots or freaks of nature. They were talented athletes who slowly learned the ropes from coaches and experts, built their physiological systems up in however much time it took, surrounded themselves with just enough people who believed in them, and then bloomed when everyone was looking.
Maybe your own breakthrough is around the corner. Here are some takeaways for helping you coil that spring.
Problem-Solve: What are you finding? Low iron? A weak hip? A torn tendon? Fatigue? Identify what’s holding you back or what could help you improve the best you can.
How to Adjust Your Run Schedule After a Big Race: Try not to be too rigid in how you approach things; learning is important during this time. Reaching out to experts is helpful, whether it’s a coach or PT, nutritionist or sport psychologist. You don’t know what you don’t know!
Change Something: Not everything, and not just to mimic what someone else successful is doing, but something specific to your situation. For example, Deena Kastor had a wonderful quote may run better off less mileage than before. A developing athlete might start doing more workout volume than before.
Keep Going: Usually this period makes someone grateful for running, or they’re really looking hungrily to the next level or goal, but it can still be hard to stay motivated day to day especially when parts of the process don’t show obvious immediate improvement. But see the story through—it may not be done yet!
All About the Run/Walk Method: It’s great to draw inspiration from others, but try not to compare. Do what you’re able to, and focus on your own story.
I hope I see you on the other side of that breakthrough! Because who says you only get one?
Molly Huddle is a two-time Olympian who holds the American record at 10,000 meters. She placed fourth at the 2018 New York City Marathon in a personal best of 2:26:44.
